Mind Caviar Fiction

Kayla Kuffs is a Canadian writer of erotica and smut, usually with a BDSM flavor, who is now branching into other forms of erotica.  Currently Kayla has pieces in Whiplash Magazine and Discipline Magazine and her work has been seen in ezines such as Venus or Vixen?, Mind Caviar, and Hoot Island.
Formerly a columnist for Brilliant Smut and associate editor for Dom's View, she is editor for the BDSM lifestyle ezine Slave's Tribute

Email Kayla Kuffs. Visit Kayla at her personal site.

The Kisser

“Oh my God, Carol-- it’s him!”


“Greg!  It’s Greg!  Oh my God.  See?  By the bar.  Oh my God, my heart’s pounding. I can’t believe he’s here.”

“Beth, who the hell are you talking about?  For Christ’s sake, chill.  Who’s Greg?”

“Who’s Greg?  Greg is the best kisser I ever met.  He’s the best kisser I ever kissed.  Oh my God, what’s he doing here?  What am I going to do? Should I go say," hi?"  No, I can’t.  I can hardly breath.  Shit, where’s the waitress? I need that drink.  Carol do you have any idea who this guy is?”

“No, I don’t.  Damn, Beth, slow down. Breathe or something-- will you?”

Beth’s hands were fluttering around her face; she was bouncing in the chair. Her eyes were bright and dancing. Carol had never really understood what ‘dancing eyes’ were, until now. Thankfully, before Beth could spurt out anything else, the waitress brought their round and Beth was distracted as she attempted to pry some money out of her wallet.  Her hands were visibly shaking.

“God, I need this.” Beth took a long draw on the straw nestled in her daiquiri.

“Better, now?”

“No!”  Beth buried her face in her hands, desperately trying to get over the shock of seeing Greg after so many years.  She took a deep breath, another healthy pull on her straw, and looked at Carol.  Her face was wide, panicked.

“So tell me...  How is it this guy is making you act like a groupie at a Beatles concert?  But tell me slowly,”  Carol laughed.  It was kind of fun seeing Beth this rattled.

“Ok,” Beth took another deep breath.  “How do I explain this?  Greg. Boyfriend.  Well ex-boyfriend from about ten years ago.  We were together for a year, maybe a little longer.  It didn’t work out, we didn’t have much in common.  But, oh my God, could that man could kiss.  Oh God, Carol you can’t even imagine how that man can kiss.  What the hell is he doing here?” As she talked her eyes darted back and forth between Carol and the bar.

Beth watched Greg as he leaned against the bar.  It looked like he was alone. At least he wasn’t with another woman.  Maybe she should go over and say," hi." Maybe he’d moved back.  Maybe he’d be up for a night with an old girlfriend. The butterflies were already churning in her belly, her clit was beginning to ache.  Maybe he would be up for it…

“Beth?  Beth!”

“Oh, sorry.  I was thinking.”

“I see that.”  Carol was obviously amused.

“OK, here’s the thing--  Greg is the only guy that I have ever known that I can remember his kisses.  Not just that he kissed me, but where he kissed me, how he kissed me, how I felt when he kissed me.  My God, Carol his kisses are magical!”

Beth took another swig from her daiquiri.

“Ok, so he can kiss.  Big deal.  There’s got to be more to it than that.  It’s not like he’s gorgeous or anything.  Were you in love with him?”

“No, you don’t understand.”  Beth sighed in frustration, grasping for a way to explain herself.

“Look, here’s an example.  We were standing on the corner of Denman and Davie, a beautiful summer evening.  We were just hanging out, waiting for the light to change.  We were going to go grab some dinner.  Ok, the sun is low in the sky, everything is getting gold, and the streets are packed with traffic and tourists.  Get the picture?”

“Yeah, a nice summer evening.”

“Fucking beautiful summer evening!  We’re a block from ocean, the water is fucking gold, Carol.  Gold!  It’s hot, but there’s a delicious breeze.  It’s noisy, it’s busy, it’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.  What’s you’re point?”

“My point.  He leans over me, completely out of the blue, and kisses me. Not a peck, not a smooch, but a KISS!  I swear to God Carol, I lost my mind. He kissed my top lip, sucked my bottom lip, ran his tongue between them, then pushed it into my mouth, pulsing, probing, exploring. He sucked my tongue into his mouth.  Our tongues were sparring, our saliva mixing, our mouths welded together.  I couldn’t see, I couldn’t breath, I couldn’t hear.  Time stopped.  I was weightless.  Fuck, Carol I came.  I swear to God I came on the corner of Denman and Davie with just a kiss.  But fuck, what a kiss.  I’ll never forget it.”

“Get real Beth. You don’t come from just a kiss.”

“I did.  I swear I did.  I would rather that man kiss me than fuck me any day. There’s something about the way his tongue moves, the way he grips the nape of your neck with one hand and rubs the small of your back with the other. Everything moves together.  Like he choreographs it.  I swear.

He presses his body close, you can feel him push forward with his hips as he pulls you to him…” Beth’s eyes closed as she was transferred back to that golden moment in time.

Her head tipped back, her wrists crossed at her chest, her hands resting on opposite shoulders.  Her body was remembering the sensation of floating, the heat of Greg’s tongue, his taste, the strength in his hands, the void that surrounded them.  Her clit throbbed, there were a million butterflies swarming in her belly.  Her body shuddered as a wave of orgasmic pleasure swept through her.  The butterflies had released.

When Beth opened her eyes Carol was staring at her, jaw hanging open in disbelief of what she’d just seen.

“He did it to me again.” Beth whispered.

“Oh, Beth, look!”  Something in Carol’s voice turned Beth’s heart cold.

Beth turned towards the bar and saw a woman standing in front of Greg.  He had one hand on the small of her back and the other at the nape of her neck.

They were kissing.

Copyright  ©  2003 Kayla Kuffs. All Rights Reserved. Do not copy or post.

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